


My Luck

by raeryn



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Chinese New Year, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Minor Original Character(s), Post Reveal, adrien is a smug boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 02:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6034753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raeryn/pseuds/raeryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Marinette wanted to do was enjoy the first Chinese New Years party she can remember in <i>years,</i> but thanks to an annoying kitty, she wasn’t too sure that can happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Luck

**Author's Note:**

> This is long. I had aimed for maybe 3~4k? for a short Chinese New Year oneshot but what do you know? Not only have I missed my deadline by over a week, I also went over my limit.

****Marinette was ecstatic.

The atmosphere was festive, the air was delicious, the house was lively—and also _busy._

Her parents ran around, bustling here and there with their hands full of so many things Marinette couldn’t even keep track. Truth to be told, Marinette should be quite frantic too, worried that her room won't be clean enough for the guests or that there would be trash on the floor.

But being here, with Adrien, washed all those worries away.

The said person sat on her chaise next to her, humming softly. “Shouldn't you be finishing up whatever dinner dish your mother wants you to finish?”

“All done!” Marinette said gleefully, not bothering to open her eyes. She had been taking a nap; no attention-wanting cat will disturb it. “Besides, I'm only taking a short break.”

His breath fanned over her face as he chuckled. “Short? Princess, it's been twenty minutes.”

“Shh...My parents aren't bothered anyways.”

“That's because they think you're cleaning your room.”

“Psh,” the girl dismissed quickly. “It's clean anyways.”

“I hope so,” Adrien commented. His arm wrapped around her torso and Marinette leaned into it, snuggling. She breathed in, basking in his wonderful scent. “You know what cleaning means on Chinese New Years right?”

“A pristine room to show off to your guests?”

“Close,” her boyfriend answered. “Losing your luck.”

He might've meant to answer her with a punch; a dramatic line that will make Marinette shoot open her eyes. But she's not bothered. Much. “Is that all? Kitty, you know I have enough of that already.”

“I sure hope you didn't sweep today…” Adrien began, “‘cause then you'll have swept all your good luck away.”

“Foolish superstitions,” Marinette said, refusing to let anything disturb her nap. Her kitty made a nice shot, but he should've known better than that. Sure, Marinette was _a little_ superstitious and maybe just _a little_ alarmed by Adrien's facts, but it was Chinese New Years. Visiting home after weeks of not doing so, her relatives coming over, family friends visiting for the first time in years—nothing can ruin this.

“Whatever you say…” Adrien sang. His voice drifted at the end and Marinette can feel him leaving. Her hands instantly grabbed to the ends of his long sleeves, irritated by his soft laughter when he noticed.

“Not leaving, m’lady,” he reassured, a soft kiss pressed to her forehead. Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed, a little annoyed, but mostly content.

“Good,” is all she said, as Adrien snuggles back to her, but with a readjusted position. His head lies in the crook of her neck, his entire body warm and comforting as it covers her.

“Are you just going to wear that?” Adrien asked after a couple minutes of quiet, content silence.

“Hmm?” Marinette murmured, head drowsy. She was just about to fall asleep, darn him.

“For the party,” he explained. “Are you just going to wear that?”

Questionably, Marinette opened her eyes and peered at her outfit. It wasn’t too special, but she thought she looked good—a fluttery, blue skirt wrapped around her waist that ended at her knees. A simple white tee tight against her torso. Marinette didn’t make it herself, but she had added her own touch to it. “What’s wrong with it?” she inquired worriedly, fingers smoothing over it.

“Nothing much, except for the fact that it isn’t red. Or new.”

“It’s _kind_ of new…” Marinette defended. She didn’t wear the skirt often, even if Marinette did buy it a couple months ago. It still counted, right? “Why does it matter?”

“For good luck,” Adrien answered, as if that were obvious.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “New Years superstition again? What’s it with the luck?”

“Well, it _is_ superstition...You would want good luck, wouldn’t you?”

“ _You_ would,” Marinette teased, lifting her face up. She bobbed Adrien on the nose, who brought his face closer in reply. Unable to resist him, Marinette kissed his lips lightly. “Why red?” she asked when she pulled away.

Adrien gave her look. “Do you not know _any_ of the Chinese cultural superstitions?”

Marinette flushed, looking away and stammering, “We live in Paris. Not China!”

“It’s not like people don’t celebrate the Lunar New Year when they’re not in Asia. And I’m just rattling off Chinese facts that you _should_ know. Y’know, being Chinese.” Adrien smirked over her, brushing her cheek with his lips softly, despite his smug mood.

“ _Half!”_ Marinette practically screeched. “I swear, ever since you found out I couldn’t speak Chinese…” she grumbled, angry. Adrien _loved_ to tease her about her lack of knowledge for her heritage. Just because the boy learned Chinese...it didn’t make him an expert! (Well, it _kind_ of did—barely! Either way, he didn’t need to be so haughty about it!)

Adrien laughed. “So are you going to change your shirt? At least wear a red one. To—”

“—bring good luck,” Marinette finished, quite furiously. “Whatever.”

Fired up and ready to give her a kitty a good slapping or anything of the sort to not let him have the last laugh, Marinette hopped off her chaise and flew to her closet. She opened multiple drawers, ignoring the not-so-subtle laughter behind her, digging here and there and at long last—found a maroon shirt. “I found one!” she declared triumphantly. “Oh...it’s a little dirty though.” Marinette’s face scrunched up as she eyed the small stain near the bottom hem. “Is it noticeable?  I could just wash it…”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Adrien sing-songed. Marinette whirled around, glaring. Her fingers curled tightly around the shirt, indignant.

“What _now?”_

“Washing your clothes on New Years—”

“—will bring bad luck, let me guess.”

“Wash away your luck, but you get the point.” Adrien grinned. “You’re learning!”

“Oh, shut up,” she bit. Marinette put on the shirt anyways. The hem was dirty, but she was wearing a skirt, so it could easily cover up any dirty bits as long as Marinette fully tucked in the shirt. She spun around, showing it off the Adrien, who, if surprised at her changing right in front of him, looked unfazed--only smug from his win of “persuading” her to wear some red.

This was getting too aggravating. And bothersome. Marinette knew Adrien was only trying to rile her up, but the seeing as she’s somehow breaking almost every superstition out there...well it didn’t bode well with her. Marinette _was_ superstitious, even if that was limited to having lucky items like socks or accessories.

“Also, that’s not true red; the shirt is maroon. You need true red—”

“Oh, I’ll show you _true red,”_ Marinette began, gaining on her boyfriend. Adrien had the audacity to _grin_ as he held his hands up, ready to anticipate her attack.

“Marinette?” a faint voice called from below—her mother. They both stopped and turned. “Adrien?”

“Coming!” they shouted in unison. Marinette glanced at Adrien, with a brief thought of just how _often_ Adrien had been coming over, so often that it was like he lived here. She smiled at the thought; Marinette was completely fine with that. Adrien _was_ part of her family.

The blond shot back an excited, _completely_ ecstatic grin. The wide smile shone through his entire expression; it’s like he knew what she was thinking. Not that that was new. They were always in sync.

“Shall we?” Adrien said, offering a hand as he opened the latch.

“We’re going downstairs, not to a ball.” But Marinette took the hand, nevertheless, and went down the stairs first.

“With the warmth of your house Princess,” Adrien said, giving Marinette’s room another one over before disappearing downstairs with her, “it’s more amazing than one.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Uncle!” Marinette greeted. Like before, Uncle Cheng didn’t say much and instead, nodded in reply. He offered a small smile when Marinette beamed. Adrien, who had been carrying a pot to the dinner table, saw him at the door and rushed over.

“Master Cheng!” Marinette caught Adrien saying in Chinese. _Ha!_ she thought, trying to telepathically communicate, _I know_ some _Chinese!_ As if knowing, Marinette noticed the small eye roll Adrien sent before continuing, “Good to see you again! I’m glad you could make it!” All in fluent Chinese.

(At least, that’s what Marinette _thought_ he said, guessing from his gestures and facial expression. She’ll make up the dialogue.)

She didn’t miss the smirk Adrien sent her.

Before Marinette could shoot back a retort in fluent sarcasm and anger, Marinette heard a delighted “uncle”. She looked over, finding her mother walking towards door. Sabine smoothed her hands over her apron. “Good evening,” she said and then something else in Chinese. Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed, her ears trying to follow along, but hopelessly failing.

“She said ‘you’re early’,” Adrien whispered, not at all trying to cover his voice. It’s like he _wanted_ everyone to know she was incompetent in Mandarin.

Jokes on him, considering that many guests haven’t arrive yet.

“I know!” she hissed, though they both knew she didn’t. “Besides, he’s not _that_ early; the twin cousins are already here.” Since the two college twins were often immersed in their own world, the older one of her Marinette cousins winked at her and pushed Marinette and Adrien to her room. She had apologized profusely to Adrien when they did so, who only laughed in reply and pressed against her.

“Master Cheng just said that,” Adrien informed, a victorious smile alight. “You would’ve— _maybe_ —known that if you were following along.” Then he spun back to her uncle, hands spread. “Here, let me take that,” her boyfriend offered, referring to the large dish Uncle Cheng had been holding in his hands. Marinette blinked. She hadn’t even noticed that. It must be because of Adrien’s stupid antics, distracting her.

Ugh, she was going to kill him.

“Would you like me to take your coat?” Marinette asked as Adrien walked away to put the food on the table and as her mother closed the door behind her uncle.

Adrien shouted something in Mandarin; a translation. Marinette understood the beginning: “She says...”. Marinette glared. That was totally unnecessary. It was like he just had to _emphasize_ the fact that she couldn’t speak Chinese! Everyone already knew that; Adrien didn’t need to _rub it in!_

Granted, Marinette was probably exaggerating the exchange. But _still._

After Adrien translated what Marinette had said in French, Uncle Cheng said something in reply she couldn’t understand; even his body language couldn’t have been translated.

Noticing, Adrien supplied another translations for her. With immense satisfaction.

Marinette gritted her teeth, trying not to let her annoyance show through as Marinette pointed Uncle Cheng to the restroom, who apparently didn’t need his coat off.

After that, a torrent of guests came in. Uncle Cheng broke the dam, and soon, Marinette’s home was filled with people. _Now,_ she became busy. Opening doors, offering food, passing around cups, plates, the like...Marinette heaved a sigh when everything calmed down. She sat on the backing of her sofa, just barely resting her body on it. Adrien was pressed next to her not two seconds after she camel his thigh touching hers, it was almost exhilarating. Almost.

“All good?” Adrien asked, compassionate as ever. Marinette would’ve taken it if she wasn’t bothered by him—his actions.

“So unnecessary,” she stated, lacing her fingers with his. Despite Adrien’s vexing actions, Marinette could never bring herself to be too enraged with him.

He knew; Adrien pecked her lips then her forehead. “I know,” he replied, grinning. “It’s cute seeing you all irritated.”

“Oh, _cute,_ huh?” she growled. He laughed. “That was _not_ cute. Do you know how many looks I’ve gotten from relatives tonight every time you had to make a translation?”

“C’mon, I didn’t make _that_ many.” Marinette shot him a look with more ire than she felt. “Okay, okay, so I may have made more than I needed to, but you still don’t have that many relatives that can’t speak French.”

“Fortunately,” Marinette sighed. “ _Un_ fortunately,” she jabbed, poking Adrien in his side, who jerked away from the couch to avoid her fingers. “I have a _wonderful_ boyfriend who loves to make fun of me.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you didn’t learn Chinese! Or that you know so little about your heritage.”

“Are you talking about Chinese New Year?”

“What else would I be talking about? This is like, the biggest holiday of the year! There are a few others, but this is probably the biggest.”

“Hm...” Marinette couldn’t actually remember an occasion where the spent the Lunar New Year largely. This was the first time in years. “Really?”

“Oh gosh,” Adrien sighed, obviously disappointed in her lack of any cultural knowledge, “let’s just go get some dinner.”

“Shouldn’t we be entertaining the guests?”

Adrien glanced around in her room, skeptical as Marinette flounced on her chaise. She brought her knees slightly up, not missing how Adrien’s eyes followed when her skirt fell past her thighs.

Marinette groaned. “Are you going to criticize me for _everything_ tonight?”

“I’m not criticizing.” His hands wove around her waist and he placed his chin on her shoulder. “I’m asking innocent questions.”

“Innocent, my ass,” Marinette muttered quietly. Apparently Adrien heard, because his chuckles vibrated against her back. She shivered.

“We _should_ be,” Marinette admitted, turning around to properly face her boyfriend. Her finger danced along his collar and she took satisfaction in seeing his face redden. “But it’s New Years and I’d like to use my luck _elsewhere…_ ” Marinette’s fingers curled around the hem of the collar and she pulled.

“That’s not how it works,” he mumbled, but allowing her to drag him forward. “And you don’t need luck for that.”

Marinette grinned. Adrien was never able to resist her. Smiling triumphantly, Marinette pulled her boyfriend in and kissed him. His arms wrapped around her waist automatically, pressing in closer. He’s always had the tendency to lean in towards her when they were close. Not that she minded.

She pulled at his collar, backing up as she did so. Marinette never had steady knees when it came to makeout sessions with Adrien, a fact she’d been trying to hide very intensely for years. She swore, sometimes Adrien knew, with that glint in his emerald eyes he gave her before he dove in for another searing kiss, but Adrien never said anything about it. She was _extremely_ thankful for that. Adrien teased her enough as it is.

Soon, Marinette was falling over on her chaise, yanking Adrien down with her. He made a muffled sound of surprise, but Marinette didn’t care. She continued to hold him close, not bothering if she didn’t land quite right. Adrien made everything right in the end, after all.

Her arms wound around his neck, his hands ran through the locks of her hair. _Oh._ That was nice, that was _really_ ni—

“Ow!”

“Sorry!” Adrien squeaked. His hand shook, trying to untangle the locks of Marinette’s hair from his ring. Which only made things worse as he kept pulling on a couple strands.

“Ow, ow, _ow, ow.”_

“Sorry, sorry, _sorry!”_ Finally, Adrien gave up on pulling and tried individually taking it apart from his ring, but Marinette’s hair ties that was holding her pigtails together just wasn’t having it.

She giggled. “Here,” Marinette helped, slipping her hair ties off. She watched Adrien’s reaction carefully. Marinette liked to think keeping her hair down had an effect on her boyfriend and judging by the awed look on his face, it did. As much as Marinette liked that look on his face, leaving her hair down was impractical. Considering she had a side job as a vigilante of Paris, Marinette needed to make sure she never had any convenience towards fighting.

Adrien gracefully brushed his hand through, the remaining tangled hairs coming apart from his ring. “You know, oddly enough, that hasn’t happened before,” he commented, while keeping his left hand in Marinette’s hair. He combed his fingers through it, the touch it left on Marinette sending shivers down her body.

“Maybe it’s because you were pulling harder than usual,” she replied slyly, giving Adrien a significant look. He laughed and pecked her forehead. “It’s a good thing it wasn’t too tangled though...then I would have needed to cut it.”

“Oh now _that_ would’ve been a disaster,” declared Adrien, free of sarcasm. Marinette looked at him quizzically. “Because you know, cutting your hair is one of the taboos for Chinese New Year.”

“Ugh _, again_ Adrien?” she asked, but wore a small smile at her lips. “How many superstitions are there?”

“Not a lot, but I think you were breaking almost half of them. It’s a good thing you’re miraculous,” Adrien said, bringing his face closer again. His voice turned husky and the look on his face was practically smoldering. Marinette couldn’t help the blush that crawled upon her fast, nor could she resist kissing him again.

“I still think we should be downstairs,” Adrien murmured, looking at her with hooded eyes when they parted.

Marinette shot him an indignant look, unsatisfied that she was unable to convince him with kisses. Spinning on her heel, Marinette almost slapped him with her hair as she walked away. “ _Fine,_ ” she gave, walking around to open her trapdoor. Then, she remembered her hair was still down. “Wait.” Marinette parted her hair into two and ran over to her desk. She twisted and turned, making sure that the part down the back was even. Securing the hairband back on her hair, Marinette grinned at her boyfriend. “Okay, ready.”

“Disappointing,” Adrien commented, pecking her bangs, “but fine, I’ll admit. I think you should reserve hair-down Marinette for me only.”

“Selfish,” Marinette accused while poking his chest. She bent down the lift up the door. “And boring.”

Adrien laughed, one hand lightly at her waist to steady her even though she didn’t need it, the other above them to close the door. “Oh, I’m _plenty_ of fun,” he said, breath ghosting her neck. Marinette rolled her eyes, refusing to let him affect her anymore. He’s already won _several_ points for knowing more Chinese New Year facts than she did; Marinette wasn’t about to give him anymore.

“Marinette!” her mother exclaimed when they made it to the food of the stairs. “There you are! Here, tang yuan.” She shoved a bowl of warm soup into her hands. “Uncle Cheng made it. So you know it’ll be good.” Her mom winked, then handed another bowl to Adrien. Unlike her, he took it graciously, with an excited look alighting his face. “Enjoy! Oh, and don’t forget to talk to some of your cousins and relatives and other family friends. They came a long way to see you, Marinette!”

Marinette cringed. Her mother didn’t scold her, but she almost did. Sabine sent her daughter a knowing look before disappearing into the kitchen, probably to get more food for other guests.

“What was that about not needing to entertain our guests?” Adrien said innocently, not looking at her and seemingly focused on the dessert.

She gritted her teeth. “Shut. _It.”_ Marinette whacked him for good measure; Adrien’s eyes widened as he tried to balance the bowl to avoid the soup from falling. When he made sure that none of the precious food would end up on the floor, Adrien glared at his girlfriend.

“If you aren’t going to enjoy that, you might as well give it to me. Or at least stay away so I can protect mine.”

“Oh...” Marinette’s eyes drifted up, pleading to the skies above. “Here.” She placed the bowl in Adrien’s hands, who protested when he had no free hand to hold the spoon. “I’ll go _entertain our guests.”_ She started to walk away from him, eyes scanning the room to see if there was any conversation Marinette could randomly join.

“Like a good child!” Adrien reminded, and Marinette clenched her hands. _Give me the strength not to pummel him,_ Marinette thought, hoping Adrien wouldn’t continue. But of course, he did. “After all, it’ll reflect on your year! You know, the _superstitions!”_

“Ah, Marinette!” someone said, interrupting Marinette’s mental plans of torturing her boyfriend. She looked up. A tall man with dark brown hair and glasses smiled down upon her. “Look how big you are!”

“Yeah…” she replied weakly, unable to remember who this was. “It’s been so long!”

He laughed heartily. “I know you don’t remember me. It’s been almost fifteen years.”

“Oh wow!” Marinette exclaimed, clapping her hands, not forgoing her act. “Has it really been? Man, time flies.”

“You were only a child when I last saw you,” her relative (relative? Family friend?) explained, smiling with a raised eyebrow. “No need to pretend you still remember me, Mari.”

“I do!” she claimed. “Uh—cousin…” Marinette peeked at his expression, wondering if that term was right. “Cousin...Frank?” Marinette sighed; it was a complete shot in the dark.

“Cousin Frank” laughed again. “Close.”

“Really?” Marinette glanced at him hopefully.

“Childhood friend, James.” Marinette wanted to run away. “I’m the son of your mom’s old friends. We used to play together.”

“Seriously?” Marinette wracked her head. She had no memory of this. “ _Seriously?_ ”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the flower wreath I made you!”

“Ah…” she looked away, hoping for something...anything. Marinette didn’t really know what she was stalling for. She let out another sigh, admitting defeat. “Yeah...”

“Breaking hearts at such a young age,” James said tenderly. He ruffled her hair. “You haven’t changed.”

“I would like to you say you haven’t either…” Marinette mumbled sadly. She really couldn’t remember anything. Then again, she had been _five,_ apparently, when they last me. Of course she didn’t! “Wait, breaking hearts?”

“That’s true,” a new voice said. Not _new_ new, since she would recognize that voice anywhere. A hand wound around her shoulder. Marinette smiled a little. Noticing the tone in his voice, she turned to find the very slight spark of jealousy in Adrien’s eyes. They were together for years, and even though Adrien wasn’t threatened, Marinette knew he still had that kitty jealousy every once in awhile.

She almost laughed; he could’ve wrapped his arm around her waist, to show off their relationship, but he didn’t. Adrien never took advantage of anything of the sort, anything that would’ve made her uncomfortable. Truthfully, Marinette would have been a _little_ uncomfortable to be so show-offy to a stranger (sort of) but she wasn’t too bothered. It was still nice to know how compassionate her kitty was.

In reply, Marinette hugged him a bit, with both hands hung around his torso. She released him after a heartbeat, smiling at him bright, but left one hand at his waist.

“I’m Adrien.”

“James.”

As the two exchanged introductions, Marinette registered what they both agreed upon.. “What, _me?_ Heartbreaker? Ha!”

Adrien blinked at her. There was a pause. Then finally: “Nathaniel...that artist...Theo? … _Nino.”_

Marinette released him, blinking back. “What?”

Adrien looked at her. “...Seriously?”

“I—” She never really realized. Marinette down, eyes widened. She _was_ a heartbreaker. Oh my god. “I...never realized?”

James chuckled. “You’re still so cute.” Marinette didn’t miss Adrien’s stiff glare. Anyone else might’ve, but she didn’t. “Well, anyways I better get going. I only dropped in for this party.”

“Only? Where you going back to?”

“Oh, you _really_ don’t remember…I live in America, so my flight is leaving soon.”

“Wow!” _America!_ She always wanted to visit America. It’s one of Marinette’s dreams when she finishes university.

“Yeah, so I should leave soon.” James checked his watch again, reading the time. “Aw, I’m already a little delayed. Julie would kill me if I didn’t make it back _at least_ before midnight.”

“Julie?” Adrien asked.

“My fiancee.”

Marinette gasped, Adrien smiled. “Congratulations,” he offered. Noticing the tone in his voice, Marinette shot him a sidelong look. _What a jealous kitty,_ Marinette thought gleefully. He replied with one of his own— _Just taking precautions._

“Did I hear _fiancee?”_ Her mama and papa entered the conversation, the latter holding out a platter of rice cake. He pushed it forward, silently offering. Marinette tried conveying the same silent communication, saying _no thanks!_ but apparently her father was unable to read her telepathically as well as Adrien could.

Though that was understandable. She’s never been in life-threatening, crime-fighting situations with her dad.

“Oh, Jamie, _that’s wonderful!”_ her mother gushed.

James scratched the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. “‘Jamie’? I haven’t heard that in a while.”

“That’s because you haven’t been back in a while.” Tom nudged the man a bit, teasing. “How old you now? 35? 40?”

“36—I’m not _that_ old, am I?”

“It _does_ feel like yesterday we asked you to babysit Marinette.” Marinette watched her parents and her babysitter—apparently—with shock. She really doesn’t remember anything. James had babysitted her when he was 12? Wasn’t that a bit young?

“I still can’t believe you asked a child to babysit a _baby._ Though I guess she isn’t one anymore.”

“It really _has_ been long, Jamie,” her papa said, giving him a huge hug. “I’m glad you dropped in.”

“Of course. Though I need to go. I’ll see you next time?” James asked her parents.

Sabine crossed her arms. “I hope that’s soon. I wouldn’t want to wait another 15 years.”

“We’ll all be old geezers by then,” Tom added. “I want to see your children before I’m buried, alright?”

James laughed. “Yes. Oh! But before I do go—” James pulled out a red envelope from his coat pocket. “This is for you, Mari.”

She took it gingerly, a little stunned. Marinette hadn’t gotten one of these since she was a child. “Oh, thank you.”

“Adults are supposed to give them to children and”—he shrugged—“that sort of fits now. I wasn’t an _appropriate_ babysitter,” James said, sending Tom and Sabine looks, “but here you go.”

“For good fortune,” Adrien quipped. Marinette glared daggers at him, who covered his mouth a bit to stifle his laugh. “You know what you’re supposed to say?”

“What?”

“Yes, Marinette,” her mother, betraying her in all sorts of ways, said. “You’re supposed to say…”

She didn’t know. Or remember, to be more accurate. Marinette glanced at her father, who smiled unhelpfully. Was _everyone_ gaining on her?

“Gong xi fai cai,” Adrien whispered in her ear. Marinette mentally groaned; he pulled her out of this one, though everyone _saw._

“Gong xi fai cai,” repeated Marinette with a horrendous accent, and also trying not to mumble, but failing miserably due to humiliation.

James laughed. “It’s been good. This was a great party.” He clapped Tom on the shoulder. “I’ll see you later Uncle, Auntie.” Turning to the younger couple, James smiled fondly. “I visited you this time; I expect you to come to New York without forgetting who I am okay? And bring Adrien.” James winked. “I didn’t bring _my_ fiance, since she had work, but I hope that you bring yours.”

Marinette immediately flushed at the implication. “W-wh-w— _James!”_

Adrien laughed—he _laughed!_ Was he not surprised?—and his fingers curled around her shoulder a little more. “No problem.” Marinette _burned._

“Then it’s a plan. Bring your in-laws, as well.”

“It’s a given that we’re coming,” Sabine told. “I expect an invitation to the wedding.”

“Already mailed. I’ll be going now.” They walked him to the door and Marinette went to the closet to find his jacket. He pointed to the right one. Giving her another hug, as well as her parents, James waved, “Goodbye!”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“So….”

The party had just ended; it was a little past midnight, but both Adrien and her had no important event early in the morning. Adrien was even able to move around his photoshoot to the afternoon. It had been a stroke of luck for both of them.

Marinette swept the floor slowly, hyper aware of Adrien’s presence. Her parents had already gone to bed; the bakery was to be opened up early in the morning after all. Both her and Adrien offered to do clean up.

“What a keeper,” her mother had said, hinting back at James’ offhand comment. Marinette had wanted to leave the house—like _instantly._

“Do you have anymore soap?” Adrien asked her, not following up on her (poor) attempt to start conversation. He held up the empty bottle of dish soap. “I ran out.”

“Oh.” Marinette set the broom aside, walking over to the sink. Adrien had taken over dishwashing duty while she collected the trash. It was a good compromise; Marinette hated getting her clothes wet and Adrien didn’t seem fond of bending down to pick up everything. (Though, frankly, Adrien didn’t seem to have any qualms for sweeping; Marinette knows he was being generous.)

She grabbed a new bottle from the cabinet. “Here,” she offered.

“Thanks.” He went back to washing the rest of the plates, oblivious.

Marinette wanted to shake him. Was he just going to take that offhand comment— _offhandedly?_ Adrien might have been able to do that, but Marinette could barely concentrate on a single thing. She barely swept anything! Marinette merely brought the broom back and forth.

“So…” she tried again, unable to continue anything more. Marinette attempted to mentally scream, _Ask me! Talk to me! Say_ anything!

Adrien didn’t seem to get that. His eyes were still on the dirty plates. Marinette spun, annoyed. Facing back the sink, she placed her hands on the wet counter, wanting nothing more to lean into his shoulder, to start talking but more than just a little afraid to so.

“Hey, it’s wet.” Ah. _Something._

Adrien turned around to reach for a towel. He offered it to her. Marinette looked down at it, taking it slowly, wiping her hands slowly. Adrien, always considerate. Remembering how she didn’t like to get wet.

“Adrien…” she said again, steeling herself to talk to him. He didn’t even seem to have thought much about it...He probably didn’t even know Marinette wasn’t getting so worked up about it. Despite how brilliant Adrien was, he really could be dense sometimes...

She glanced back at him and—

He was smiling. _Smiling!_

Gasping, Marinette whipped his shoulder with her towel. “You _jerk!_ ” She whacked him again.

“Hey, hey, _hey,_ stop!” Laughing, Adrien reached for a spoon and placed it at an angle under the running faucet. A jet of water hit her.

Marinette spluttered. “ _Adrien!”_ she hollered, raising her arms to hit him again.

Adrien—with reflexes just as fast as her—caught her wrists. She squirmed, protesting all sorts of things, including his dirty, soapy, _wet_ fingers around her skin. Unfair! He wasn’t wearing a shortsleeve like she was. Aware of her fury, Adrien pulled her in and kissed her.

She sank into it. Obviously. How could she not? Marinette hooked her arms around his neck when Adrien’s hold on her arms loosened. His arms drifted towards her waist, her chest closer to his than any of the kisses they had shared that night. The water was running in the background, a little wasted, but Marinette didn’t think about it. She pressed closer, gasping a little when Adrien deepened the kiss.

He broke apart first. Adrien’s face was flushed, as hers was probably too. He looked absolutely happy. Arms around her waist, but face further to look at each other properly. “Did you want to talk, my lady?”

She grabbed the towel again. And gave another swat. For good measure. “You’re a jerk.” Then kissed him again.

Finally, she released him, ignoring his chuckles. “What were you thinking?” she asked, still tentative.

“Well, mainly, I was wondering how long I could play stupid before you would do something…”

Marinette bumped her shoulder with his. Needing something to do with her hands, Marinette grabbed a dish and sponge, washing it. “Jerk,” she repeated. “Did you like teasing me?”

Adrien turned off the water, and Marinette held her breath in anticipation. “Always,” he replied cheekily, kissing her lower cheek. He pressed another one to her jaw, Marinette shuddering. “What were _you_ thinking?”

“I was…I’m not sure.” A lie. She’s thought of it a million times, of course. Marinette had thought about it even before Adrien and her were _dating._ But even with the thousands of scenarios played in her head, Marinette knew her answer. “We’re young.”

“Yes.” His breath fluttered against her neck.

“I would like to develop my career first.”

“Of course.”

“And...we’re young.”

“Mm..” A kiss to the underside of her chin. “You already said that.”

Marinette to him, her head knocking against his a little. “Adrien, seriously...what are you thinking?”

He kissed her forehead, reassuring. “I’m thinking there’s no rush.”

“So you’re not thinking about it?” She didn’t really know which one she’d prefer. Marinette had no idea what she was thinking, really.

“I didn’t say that,” Adrien denied, looking at her. Her breath caught just by the look in his eyes. Really, the boy was a model, but he shouldn’t have this much power over her with just one glance. “I’m just thinking we’re still only 25 and we have plenty of time.”

“We’ve been dating for years now…”

“Almost seven, but what’s the rush? We _are_ young, right? ”

“Mama says it’s better to get married earlier. Have children earlier.”

“ _Oh,_ children?” His voice turned cheeky. “You’ve been thinking.”

Marinette flushed. Should she tell him? “I...have.”

“Of course you have. Everyone has, at some point. _I_ have.”

She looked at him, eyes wide. “Really?”

Adrien smiled, face bright. He dropped his head again, presser his lips her nose. “Yeah. I thought about marriage too.”

The word sent flurries towards her. Marinette blushed again, trying to settle the flip flops her stomach was giving. “How do you even just say it like that…” Marinette mumbled, trying to avoid Adrien’s gaze.

He laughed.

His hold on her torso tightened and just because they were so close, because they had this moment, this connection, Marinette leaned against his shoulder at the same time Adrien adjusted his torso to welcome her in. They were always in sync, even in non-life threatening situations. “So we’re okay?”

Marinette frowned, leaning back. Her fingers brushed his cheeks. “Of course we are, kitty. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“You seemed pretty distressed…”

Given his prodding, she should tell him, explain her thoughts. “I was thinking...haven’t we been together long enough already? I _know_ we’re young, of course I do—I’m not even saying we _should_ get married, of course not. But even some of my coworkers are getting married. Granted, a couple are like, three years older...but that’s not far, is it? We should be talking about it, shouldn’t we? Or anything of the sort? I don’t _know,_ but sometimes it worries me.”

“Hmm…” Adrien said thoughtfully. Her heart warmed for the nth time that night because no matter how annoying and _smug_ Adrien could be, he was still the most compassionate person she knew. “I think it depends for every person. Everyone has different opinions on marriage. I also think it’s influence by own personal experiences. For you, for example, Tom and Sabine married a little young and they’ve always been good parents. For me, on the other hand…”

“Hey,” Marinette interrupted, not even thinking about letting her boyfriend think such thoughts, “we aren’t like that. That shouldn’t even be a factor.”

“It influences my thinking.”

“Well, it _shouldn’t._ We would be fantastic parents,” Marinette decided, turning on the water again to finish washing the dishes. “I’d tell them how it’s important to have the right morals and—”

“I’ll finish the story off with corny puns and fond Ladybug and Chat Noir moments?”

Marinette laughed, bumping her hip with his. “If you must.”

“Of course I must. Our children would be deprived without them.”

“ _Sure._ Anyways, we don’t _have_ to have kids, right? Our parenting skills shouldn’t reflect whether or not we get _married._ ”

“Please,” said Adrien, “we want children.” Adrien waggled his eyebrows, looking at her knowingly. Marinette giggled. They both knew each other too well for their own good.

“You’re right.” Finishing the last of the dishes, Marinette rinsed her hands and turned off the water. Adrien did the same, then placed his right arm against the sink counter, leaning against it. His left hand wrapped around the other wrist.

“Do you have any other lingering concerns?”

“Mm…Just one.” Her voice was low, her fingers gentle. Marinette let her eyes flick to Adrien’s lips. She noted his growing smirk.

“Oh? And what’s that…?”

She rolled her eyes. “Just kiss me,” she ordered, because there’s enough of his teasing for one night.

“More, m’lady?” But even as he said that, Adrien’s breath brushed over her lips, his entire warmth clouding her. His bright green eyes were mostly concealed by his seductive, closed eyelids, but Marinette could still see the love in them.

Ha! Trying to tease her...but they both knew he was a second away from pulling her in irresistibly. So she leaned in. Both Marinette’s hands cupped Adrien’s face and they kissed. Adrien’s always liked kissing her and she’s liked receiving them, and plenty of smooching here and there had been exchanged throughout this wonderful night, but Marinette still felt her heart jump to all sorts of places with all this feeling poured into Adrien’s kiss. She let him envelop her with every piece of his being. Honestly, she couldn’t get enough of him.

After being thoroughly kissed, they parted, chest heaving. “Enough for you, princess?” Adrien asked, as if she had been the only one who wanted it, as if she had been the only one ravished. She almost scoffed. As if Adrien could even pretend that with the heavy red adorning his cheeks and the dazed look written in his eyes.

“Sure,” she said flippantly, trying to imitate his tone and obviously failing. Though, in a way, Marinette guessed she did match him, since they were both irrevocably in love with each other that there was no point in pretending one didn’t have this effect on the other.

“Should we get back to cleaning?” Adrien whispered huskily, but definitely ruining the moment.

“Oh...fine,” she relented. Marinette picked up the broom she left next to her again, duly noting that Adrien’s long sleeve was wet and wrinkled and dusted with vestiges of white (must be the soap) all over, indicating all the places she had been touching. It was embarrassing to see...but also kind of attractive.

“It’s almost two,” Adrien notified, glancing at the nearest clock, “even though we don’t have anything in the morning…” He looked at her, a little worried. “Should you get to sleep? You’re always more susceptible to exhaustion, after all.”

Marinette heart thumped at his thoughtfulness. “It’s okay. I may be upset in the morning...but I don’t get to spend nights like this with you often.” They weren’t rare, but Marinette would’ve appreciated a little bit more. They worked at different companies, after all, and more times than not had different schedules. “I rather stay up a little longer, with you, than extra sleep.”

“Okay…” Adrien said, still skeptical and evidently concerned for her wellbeing. “But just this once.” Adrien was referring to that one week Marinette worked herself to finish a set of pieces that costed her hours and _hours_ of sleep.

“Because it’s Chinese New Year,” Marinette declared cheerfully, thinking that it’s a good occasion, since it’s a holiday. She should deserve staying up a little later.

“But…it’s Chinese New Year.” A pause. “Was, anyways. Your actions are reflective of the upcoming year, remember?” Implying that she’ll stay up past midnight everyday for the next year.

“Pah!” Marinette waved away. “Whatever.”

“Still forgetting, ever after a whole night of me trying to teach you?” Adrien shook his head. “Disappointing, princess. You really ought to take up that hair cutting advice I gave you.”

“And we already went over the reason why I shan’t.” Marinette tried going back to washing dishes when another thought struck her. “Ah!” Marinette shouted suddenly, snapping her fingers. She whirled around to face her boyfriend.“That reminds me. You owe me two cookies.” She folded her fingers into her palm repeatedly, indicating she wanted payment.

Adrien blinked. “You said those cookies were free.”

Marinette had offered Chat Noir treats the other day after a long night of patrolling. He ate them with joy, only to be cut off by his girlfriend’s demand for a couple euros. Frankly, Adrien would've been more than glad to pay for it (something Marinette would've hated, ironically) but Chat Noir didn't carry around coins or bills. Marinette had giggled and finished with a “just kidding”.

“I changed my mind,” she said. “I would like to have those cookies back.”

“And not the actual money? Would you like them as feces or bile?”

Marinette’s smile didn't waver. “If you don't pay up kitty, that’s…” She gave him a frantic look.

“Indebtedness later in the year,” Adrien supplied, free of smugness. On his face, anyways.

“See? That’s not good,” she continued, as if Marinette hadn’t had a lapse in speech. Adrien laughed.

“I wouldn’t want to be owing you cookies around next Christmas time,” he agreed, “that would be disastrous. No Christmas cookies?”

“Practically a crime.”

“Exactly. You better hope you’re lucky that the...gods of fortune are lenient?”

“Do you even _listen_ when I teach you Chinese?” Marinette avoided his gaze. Truthfully, she was trying to learn Chinese, really, she was! But she wondered if Marinette had some incapability to learn languages because all this cultural stuff made her confused sometimes. Not that she’ll ever admit _that._ It was already mortifying that she didn’t know her _own_ cultural background.

Adrien sighed. “Okay, we can have a refresher later, if you’d like.” Marinette pouted. “Besides, I don’t need to hope I’ll be lucky with these ‘ _gods’._ ”

She ignored the small jab at the end. “Why?”

“Because you’re the ladybug.”

“I’m Ladybug? That’s been established.”

“No, you’re _the_ ladybug. You’re my lucky charm.” He smiled, because it was impossible not to. “Like you said,” Adrien began, pulling Marinette forward by her belt loops. She looked up at him, delight written all over her face, eyes shining. “You have enough luck. For both of us, I would hope.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Are you just loading off of me now? A rich boyfriend who’s a free loader. Just my luck.”

Sometimes the “rich” reference would bother Adrien, but usually it didn’t. Not from her. But when Adrien didn’t react immediately, Marinette started to get worried.

“You know...I often wonder if I’d be okay with my father disowning me.”

Marinette stilled. The conversation had changed quickly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...I’m not a child anymore. I don’t want to constantly seek out his approval, when I know I don’t need it anymore. I don’t need to break my back trying to please him, and only getting a bit in return.”

“But…?” Marinette prompted, though she knew along the lines of what he would say.

“But…” Adrien sighed heavily. “But I don’t know if I can. I say I don’t need his approval, but I _do._ I really do, on some days. Even though I’m not alone anymore”—his head falls a little on her shoulder— “I still need him. Even though I hate him sometimes.” He fell silent.

They both stayed like that for a beat. His arms drift from her belt loops to around her waist, hugging her tightly, but not painfully. Though the touch was distressing enough. Marinette stroked his hair, thinking. “Maybe...you should talk to him. Tell him what you’re thinking. And you’re right; we’re adults now. _We_ can handle ourselves.” Marinette’s hands cupped his neck, forcing him to look at her. Like always, whenever Adrien spoke of his father, his eyes gave off an incredibly saddened look. Marinette faltered a little when she saw it, but kept going. “You don’t _need_ him, but I don’t think you should cut off ties forever. If he gets angry at you when you talk to him, fine. Because you _don’t_ need him. You’ve given him enough. Just make sure you say your piece, because you’re your own person, you make your own choices.”

Adrien’s breath was shaky when he exhaled. A whispered “thank you, princess” was pressed to the back of her ear. “I’m glad I have a girlfriend I can load off of,” he told, making sure she knew just how much he appreciated her, despite his light, joking tone.

Marinete giggled. Her fingers drifted to his collar. “Just your luck,” she whispered.

“I don't need any Chinese New Year luck,” he told her with a brief kiss to her lips. “Not when I have you.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea that Adrien knows a lot more Chinese culture than Marinette does, despite her being half-Chinese.
> 
> The cultural superstitions I mentioned in this fic is based off of the superstitions we celebrate (enact on? believe in?) in my own family, so I apologize if they’re inaccurate/differ from your own. I also know I said “Chinese New Year” when it’s really “Lunar New Year” but I just thought because Marinette’s family is celebrating is the “Chinese way”, I would refer to it as such. That being said, if anything I mentioned/wrote is disturbing, please leave a comment!


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